


Booties

by 1FrozenRutabaga



Series: Human Frexy: Little Mikey [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Everyone knows they're dorks, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Foxy cries a lot, Freddy worries a lot, Humanized, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Innuendos, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mikey's a precious bean, mentions of bullying, mentions of past character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 11:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1FrozenRutabaga/pseuds/1FrozenRutabaga
Summary: A series of events with married couple Freddy and Foxy (Flint) trying to raise their adopted son.AKA: Flint clashes with PTA moms and cries over baby clothes, Freddy contemplates getting a harness for his husband and more therapy, friends and family popping in to steal the baby bean, and Mikey being the cutest doll.





	Booties

**Author's Note:**

> Frexy is the hill I die on.
> 
> Like Before, most of these events will be in mismatched order. We'll be bouncing back and forth between a lot. This is in the Sweet Dreams universe, so we're still with the same Frexy couple and the same Mikey.
> 
> Real quick: Foxy's human name is Flint, Chica's is Celeste, Bonnie's is Birch, Freddy and Foxy are married and Mikey is their adopted son.

Freddy woke up to cooing.

The bassinet was on Flint's side. Freddy, usually calm, was paranoid about the baby waking up and getting momentarily blinded by the sun. It was one of the many things he was paranoid about. Mikey was a little more fragile than most babies, being a premature soul. Sure, it wasn’t by that much, but both parents agreed that Mikey needed a little more surveillance for the outset than most babies.

Since Flint slept like the dead – a trait that was admirable in times of literal chaos – Freddy was the one to get up to see the bundle of joy. He parted the curtains just so before he moved around the bed. It looked like a nice day to go out for a walk.

Flint, being the stubborn craftsmen that he was, had built the bassinet himself. Freddy hadn’t objected; Flint was a master when it came to making things – that weren’t food – and it brought them both comfort that the bassinet was going to be solid and safe, not coming with risks like most did. Its skirt was a gentle blue with shells sewn into the fabric, something Flint's grandmother had made herself. Small, simple, but cute.

Mikey’s hands were fluttering listlessly, but they were definitely trying to reach up. The baby was smiling brightly, his little legs kicking.

Freddy smiled. “Hi, pumpkin,” he greeted softly. “Did you have a nice night?”

Mikey let out a sound that could be akin to yes.

It was so weird how much of a happy baby Mikey was. Yes, he cried and had screaming fits, but for the most part he was pleasant. A lot of mothers in Celeste's yoga class had been blown away by Mikey’s temperament, and the two got a lot of comments on how lucky they were or on how it wouldn’t last. Both were true, because Mikey was certainly one in a million and neither of them were ready for the so- called ‘Terrible Twos’.

Freddy reached down and brushed a strand of black hair from Mikey’s face. The boy certainly had a head of it. “Are you hungry?” he asked gently. “Do you want some yummy breakfast?”

“Ba!” Mikey shouted.

His heart melted into a puddle. They only had a little longer before the bassinet would be swapped for a crib, and Freddy definitely wasn’t ready for the baby to leave their room. Freddy glanced back. “How about you help me wake up your daddy?”

Mikey was more than happy to agree, squealing as he was lifted up. It would be an amazement to anyone else how Flint could sleep through such noise, but to Freddy it was just how it was. He did, however, hope that Flint would become more inclined to wake up as Mikey grew older.

Freddy moved next to the bed. Flint's hair was down, the dark red locks and his limbs spanning everywhere. He had a small, quiet snore, but it wasn’t unbearable. He tended to be an octopus when it came to sharing a bed, which made it a little crowded even for the mattress size, but Freddy had found it endearingly cute. Freddy tended to be a cuddly person, so they matched quite well.

“Okay, Michael,” Freddy whispered, setting the baby down on Flint's chest. The other was lying on his back. “Say good morning to daddy.”

Mikey smacked his lips. “A-ba!” he yelled.

A sunny eye peeked open. It seemed that Flint was already on his way to adjusting his sleeping habits. Flint let out a rumbling hum and let them shut again. “Hi, Mikey.”

The baby let out a happy coo and pressed his hands on Flint’s grizzled cheeks. “Ah!”

Flint couldn’t help but smile. He brought up his hands and wiped his eyes. “Alrigh', alrigh', I’m up.” Once his eyes were clear, he looked at Mikey like he had seen an angel. “Hi, swee' pea.”

Flint carried Mikey downstairs while Freddy went ahead to warm up the formula. After a very frustrated war with it, Flint was no longer trusted to use or touch it, which was certainly fine by him. The baby was cooing and babbling the whole time, his little arms flailing as much as they could.

“Ah!” Mikey yelled, his brows furrowed.

Flint looked at him. He was in the kitchen doorway. “Yeah? What?”

“A-ba!”

“Really?”

“Ba!”

“Sounds li'e a personal problem.”

“I’m not sure what personal problems a baby could have,” Freddy said. He was leaning against the counter.

Flint shrugged. “Why the sky’s blue?”

“How is that personal?”

“I thin' kids take everythin' personally.”

Flint was settled on the couch when the bottle was warmed. He had grabbed the burping rag and one of Mikey’s blankets beforehand. They took turns feeding Mikey, and this morning happened to be Flint’s turn. The baby was nestled in his arms, head over his daddy’s heart. He was playing with Flint's hair, one of his favorite toys. The redhead always went on about how much he wanted Mikey's hair to grow out so he could braid it. Freddy knew it would be styled in all kinds of ways if it got even slightly long.

Freddy handed the bottle to him. It was small and tinted pink. “Here.”

Flint reached and took it. Mikey was just starting to fuss for food. “Than's, sweethear'.” He turned down to Mikey. “Say ‘ah’, Mikey.”

It was a good thing Mikey didn’t fuss over bottles. They knew parents who could only breastfeed their babies, which was something they worried about when Mikey came into their lives. It was a stroke of luck that Mikey didn’t seem to care. The baby took the nipple eagerly, his fussing sounds fading and replaced with snuffling.

Freddy sat down next to them, sliding an arm around Flint’s shoulder. “He’s so cute,” he murmured. Sometimes Mikey got distracted with how deep his voice was.

“Yeah.” The redhead rotated his thumb gently against Mikey’s head. “Is Birch goin’ ta ma'e i' ta the park?”

“He will. You know how serious he is when it comes to making time for Michael.” Birch worked as a technician at the hospital and gave guitar lessons on the side, so he was always busy. He was definitely carving time out for Mikey no matter what the cost.

“An' Celeste’s done wit' her yoga class?”

“By now, yes. She’ll be here by the time he’s dressed.”

“Yer brother?”

“Goldie’s going to a doctor’s appointment with Spring. They’ll finish by Michael’s naptime and come over.”

Mikey pulled off the bottle for a minute and looked at Freddy curiously. “Ah?”

The hulking man chuckled. “You’ll see Uncle Goldie and Uncle Spring in a bit, pumpkin.” As much as Goldie insisted that he wasn’t good with kids, he was a natural at making them happy. He was just nervous.

After Mikey finished his bottle, Freddy got them breakfast. It wasn’t much, certainly not to Freddy’s standards of cooking, but some cereal paired with coffee and leftover pancakes was enough for them at the moment. Flint ate after Freddy did, instead playing with the baby on his chest to pass the time. They swapped so Flint could eat. 

He didn’t even notice that Freddy had grabbed Mikey’s day outfit, so his throat instantly tightened at the sight of flannel and jeans.

"This is the outfit Sarah and Lenard got for him." Freddy looked love-struck at the sight of them. Freddy's adopted parents were certainly over the moon for Mikey. Elaine, their daughter, would send him little gifts from her travels. "Isn't it cute?"

Flint said nothing. His eyes faintly stung.

"Maybe something else would be warmer," the man murmured. The icy eyes were narrowed in thought. "But the flannel is just so cute."

The doorbell rang.

Flint practically shot up. “I’ll get i'.”

Celeste was dressed in a purple flannel and dark blue jeans. Her blonde hair was tied into a high ponytail. Flint found that she was dressed in either ‘time to kick ass’ attire or ‘I’m the prettiest woman on the face of the Earth’ attire. They still hadn’t found out who had more flannels.

Celeste was smiling. She was wearing faint purple lipstick. “I’m here for my little muffin.”

Flint rolled his eyes. “_Yer_ little muffin? Please.”

The blonde scoffed. “He’ll be calling me mama before he he calls you daddy.”

“We’ll see abou' tha'.” Flint moved out of the way. “Come on in, Freddy’s 'avin' a hard time gettin’ 'im dressed.”

“Pretty sure anyone would be,” Celeste said, walking inside. “All those outfits are so cute! Did you see the little booties I got him?”

“We have a lo' o' those,” the grizzled man responded blandly. He didn’t really pay attention to any of them.

Celeste scowled lightly. “They’re blue and have little snowflakes on them. I just got them for him last week.”

“Celeste, stop buyin’ 'im clothes, he’s goin’ ta grow ou' o' them in a few months an' we 'ave more than enough.”

“They were on sale. You don’t pass up on-sale baby booties.” The woman moved past him. “You’re such a sourpuss. What’s this grudge against baby clothes you have?”

Flint let out a grunt. “I don’ have a grudge,” he muttered. “They’re jus' clothes.”

He wouldn’t admit that he nearly started crying at the sight of a gifted little onesie that had ‘Daddy’s Helper’ on it. No way in hell was he letting anyone know that he cried at the sight of baby clothes, so he made sure he barely glanced at any of them. Freddy was oblivious to Flint’s reluctance to dress Mikey since he was so happy to do it himself. Was it going to last forever? No, but at least Flint could steel himself against the urge to cry over baby clothes.

Celeste was about to say something when a loud coo reached her ears. She gasped and ran into the living room. “Muffin-cake, mama’s here!”

Mikey was dressed in a little blue flannel and jeans, his little blue boots patterned with leaves. He started squealing the moment he saw Celeste, reaching for her in Freddy’s lap. Flint bit his lip and held back a whine. He looked so cute with his little flannel and boots.

The lilac eyes were practically sparkling. “Hi, baby doll!” She planted a big, dramatic kiss on Mikey’s cheek, earning a giggle. “Are you ready to go to the park?”

“You’re sure it’s warm enough for him?” Freddy asked, frowning.

“I know you checked the weather a thousand times. Yes, Freddy, it’s warm enough for him.” She plucked Mikey from his lap. “He’s not going to freeze.”

Freddy grimaced. “Why do I feel like you’re mocking me?”

“Because you’re paranoid. You have to lighten up a little, Mikey’s perfectly fine.” Celeste looked at the baby and puckered her lips. “Isn’t that right, Mikey-baby? Is your papa being overdramatic?”

“Ba ba!” Mikey exclaimed. He flapped his arms. “Ah!”

Celeste crooned and covered his face with kisses. Flint wanted to do the same thing, but he was still on the edge of tears from seeing Mikey’s outfit.

“Flint, could you go grab his extra blanket?” Freddy asked, his eyes still on Mikey.

Celeste rolled her eyes. “You seriously need to take it back.”

“It’s just in case he gets chilly. I don’t want him getting sick with a cold. Or pneumonia.”

“That was a massive jump. Freddy, relax.”

Flint headed up the stairs. Blanket, he could get the blanket. It’d give him some time to reel in his emotions and calm down.

They had a little dresser and chest for Mikey’s things. They were cute and tiny, and would inevitably be moved into Mikey’s room once the bassinet was outgrown. It was almost painful to think about, Mikey no longer being by their bed, but it was just how it was.

The redhead rustled through the top drawer. Mikey had two specific blankets that he absolutely needed when he went out, and one happened to be from Flint’s grandma. Nana didn’t mess around when it came to making things for her grandson, firmly believing that just about everything he should be wearing be hand-sewn by loved ones. Poppy didn’t seem to be bothered by all the trips to the fabric store he had to make, but then again Cave wasn’t really bothered by…anything really.

Flint grunted when he didn’t find the hand-sewn blanket with shells and moved to the next drawer. He grabbed the first blue thing he saw.

It wasn’t the blanket.

_Shit. Fuck._ These were the booties Celeste had got for Mikey. Flint swallowed, throat already tight. He just needed to put them back into the drawer, he didn’t need to look at them.

…But they were so _fucking cute_. They were a light blue with white snowflakes on them. The yarn was so soft, the faux fur around the tops brushed and bright white. They weren’t anything special, nothing at all, but they were just so soft and the snowflakes were so tiny and…

Flint wiped his eyes. “Fuck,” he rasped. He was about to have a breakdown over _booties_.

“Flint, did you find Michael’s extra blanket?” Freddy pushed the bedroom door open a little wider. “Celeste’s already heading down to the park with him. You know how she gets.”

The redhead sniffled. Yep, too late to stop the breakdown.

Freddy was next to him in a flash, warm and strong hands on his shoulders. “Love, what’s wrong?”

Flint let out another sniffle, then lifted up the booties. “They’re so little,” he whimpered. He didn’t look back at his husband.

And Flint called _him_ emotional. Freddy couldn’t help but chuckle. “He _is_ just a baby,” he said, tone touched with amusement. “Celeste picked those out, you know? Aren’t they cute?”

Flint looked at him for another moment, teary-eyed, before bursting into sobs. _“They’re so little!”_ he wailed. He buried his face into his hands.

Freddy turned Flint around by the quaking shoulders and hugged him. “I know,” he murmured.

“H-h-he’s goin’ ta g-grow out o' ‘em!”

“He will.”

“He-he’s goin' ta grow up!”

“I know, love, I know.”

Flint nearly choked. “His l-little b-b-bo-ooties!” They were so tiny, they could fit in his hand.

Freddy just stroked his hair and hushed him.

It took – to Flint – an embarrassingly long time for him to calm down. Freddy didn’t comment on it or tease him, just held him close and soothed him. The booties remained clutched in Flint’s hand. He just couldn’t let go of them no matter how many times he told himself to drop them. The fact that their baby was with someone else right now only made him cry harder. All Flint wanted to do was hold their baby and cuddle in bed with his husband.

The redhead pulled away after a bit, still sniffling. God, that was embarrassing even for his standards. He could unashamedly tell people obscene things and casually talk about things like his sex life, but crying over baby clothes was in the embarrassing zone.

Freddy’s fingers parted some stray hair. “Why didn’t you tell me that baby clothes made you emotional?” he asked.

Flint wiped his face. “They’re jus' clothes,” he muttered.

“Our baby’s clothes,” the other corrected gently. “Flint, it’s okay to cry over things like that. You know that I cried when you showed me the bassinet, and that’s just one thing.”

The redhead sighed. “I guess,” he muttered. Great, now everyone was going to ask why his eyes were red.

Freddy frowned. He tipped the square chin up, making the glassy yellow eyes look at him. “Flint, listen, it’s okay. This is completely normal, love, you don’t need to feel embarrassed about this.”

Shit, he was going to start crying again. “'e’s goin’ ta grow up,” Flint said, his voice already getting rough again.

“He will.” Freddy settled his forehead against Flint’s. “But that’s why we make the most of his baby years.”

Their phones beeped. They leaned back from each other and took their phones from their pockets, finding a picture of Mikey being held by Birch, the man giving the baby a kiss on the cheek. To their relief, there was no message that Mikey was upset or hurt, but something else.

_Big brother got here before you guys, hurry up before I take full custody 😊_ – Celeste

“We better get going before she actually does,” Freddy said, putting his phone back in his pocket. He looked at Flint. “Are you okay to go out?”

Flint nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine now.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks fer, ye know, no' makin’ fun o' me.”

“I wouldn’t make fun of you for something serious.” Freddy kissed his cheek. His beard faintly scratched Flint’s scruff. “And the others won’t either.”

“Uh…”

“Birch broke down into sobs when we asked him if he wanted to be big brother, Celeste did the same when we asked her if she wanted to be called mama and ruined her makeup, Goldie wouldn’t let go of me for nearly an hour after I told him the news. Trust me, they have no leverage.”

Flint really should have known better. “Yeah.” He looked down at the booties. “Can I jus'…?”

“Love, of course you can bring them with you.” Freddy was smiling so warmly that Flint felt transported back to their first kiss. “We can even bring another jacket if you want.”

“…Where’s tha' one wit' Love Bug written on the back?” It was pink and had little ladybugs on it. It was one Flint had really, really loved. It had been so difficult to act like he didn't care about it when he brought it up to Freddy.

“You know, I was just thinking about that one. Maybe we should bring his extra cute hat with the puppy paws on it? Or maybe…?”

“Freddy, unless ye wan' me ta break down into tears again, le’s jus' stick wit' the jacket an' booties.”

“Fine.” A pause. “Now I want to cry about how small his clothes are.”

A snort. “Welcome ta my world.”

**Author's Note:**

> More to come :)


End file.
